


Silhouettes

by Nipan



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Canon Non-Binary Character, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Injury, Isolation, M/M, Manipulation, Nervousness, Other, Sexual Content, Social Anxiety, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nipan/pseuds/Nipan
Summary: This may be confusing at first, this first chapter is shown in a moment that will not actually come until later in the story.Chapter 2 I will be skipping back to before the content of Chapter 1.Constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged.I will be adding characters/to the tags as I go along. So keep checking!This may be confusing at first but it'll work out over time I'm hoping. :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This may be confusing at first, this first chapter is shown in a moment that will not actually come until later in the story.
> 
> Chapter 2 I will be skipping back to before the content of Chapter 1. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged.
> 
> I will be adding characters/to the tags as I go along. So keep checking!
> 
> This may be confusing at first but it'll work out over time I'm hoping. :)

“You’re not real.” Elliott answered, voice shaking slightly from where he sat on the edge of his bed, hands resting atop it as if to show the other he wasn’t a threat, the young man watching the only other occupant in the room standing a few feet away.

 

"How do you know I’m not real?“ It questioned, head tilting slightly in curiosity, one brow quirked in that way Elliott found so endearing. "How do you know that  _ you’re  _ real? Maybe I am, and you’re not." 

 

Elliott shook his head, confused as well as a little unsettled with the other’s behaviour. "Because I made you, a-and I have feelings and show affe-aff- and I can love." 

 

It laughed now, the sound pleasant though slightly disturbing. "You were made by your mother. Pathfinder by someone that he doesn’t even know, but he’s still considered to be real.” 

 

Elliott shook his head, unable to come up with a response to that. The other’s stance slightly shifting as if noticing how he seemed to want to dispute what it said, its body language all but daring the trickster to do so. 

 

Reading its expression, Elliott decided he didn’t dare, choosing instead to mutely study the other man. Brunette, curls falling over one side of its face, brown eyes familiar though the light within them was all but foreign, skin marred with light scarring, beard neatly trimmed… Chimera, his lookalike. 

 

“I can love.” Elliott repeated, voice nearly a whisper as he refused to make eye contact with Chimera, who cocked it’s head before approaching. It didn’t stop until it was standing directly in front of him now, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “We both know that I can love... that Bloodhound loves  **_me_ ** .” 

Elliott shut his eyes at the statement, turning his face away though Chimera was having none of it, the decoy reaching out to grip his chin, tilting his face upwards so he was forced to meet it’s gaze. “Now stop complaining, and let me take care of you,” it murmured softly, leaning in to kiss him.

 

Tensing briefly, Elliott wondered if he should push the other away, demand to be left alone. But then Chimera wrapped one arm around his back, pulling their chests flush together, free hand running up the back of Elliott’s neck and he finally relaxed into it, hands going up to Chimera’s face, lingering a moment as he returned the kiss. 

 

It was intense, as it always was with the decoy, Elliott softly whimpering as Chimera tongued at his lips, silently requesting entry. He gave it, lips parting to allow the other in, Elliott attempting to keep up as the decoy leaned over him, slowly pushing him down until he was flat on his back, one of Chimera’s arms wrapped around the small of his back, the other hand supporting him. A knee worked up between his legs, Elliott moaning, arms wrapping around the decoy’s neck, legs around its waist to pull it closer. It felt so good, even if he would feel embarrassed about it later. He, Elliott Witt, Apex Legend, Mirage, attractive playboy, fucking himself because he was too afraid to get an actual date.

 

But in the moment, it always felt so good, perfect. He didn’t have expectations to meet. He knew exactly where to touch, kiss, what to say... And so did Chimera. 

 

Breaking off the kiss, Elliott stared up at the other, wide-eyed, chest heaving as his lungs drank down much needed air. Chimera regarded him with a lopsided grin, head tilted adorably. 

 

Looking up at it, Elliott’s mind briefly wandered to the one person he really wanted to be beneath, to touch, to love… But Chimera was right. Bloodhound didn’t love him, and it was his fault they didn’t. They liked a false form of him… The thought had Elliott frowning slightly, clearly unhappy.

 

Chimera sighed loudly, covering Elliott’s mouth when he attempted to speak up, gaze narrowed in a slightly possessive way. “You think about him too much.”

 

Him…? Bloodhound was a  _ they _ . 

 

Elliott attempted to correct the other man, but didn’t get a chance to do so before Chimera’s lips descended onto his again, this kiss more aggressive and demanding than the last, though no less passionate, and he found himself melting into it. Forgetting Bloodhound again, if not for long. 

 

_ Just for the moment. _

 

“Let me show you why you don’t need anyone else. Let me show you why we are perfect together.” Chimera murmured, face buried into the side of Elliott’s neck as it ground against him, drawing soft pants and whimpered moans from between his lips.

 

It felt good. In the moment, it always did.


	2. Chapter 2

****“Mirage! Mirage can you explain-”

 

“Sir! Mr Witt!”

 

“Please share the best part of-”

 

“We love you!”

 

“Mirage can you confirm the most recent rumours of you and newest legend Octane?”

 

People shouted from all sides, shoving against one another as they tried to get the legend’s attention, even more reporters demanding similar questions of his teammates: Gibraltar and Bangalore.

 

Mirage flashed his signature smile as the security escorting the three winners shoved people back to ensure there was enough room to get the triumphant squad from the street to the official Apex building.

 

The group gathered outside the towering skyscraper was made up of those that weren’t lucky enough to secure private interviews, newbies that had no reputation and those that didn’t have big names backing them. Still, they tried their best, crowding around the winners and shouting questions with the hope of perhaps receiving answers.

 

Mirage would say that he loved the attention, but that’d be lying. And mama had taught him to be honest. He could feel it starting at his fingers, a tingling that had his heart clenching in dread, the legend’s smile remaining in place as he waved and gave the occasional wink to his fans. Cameras flashed, blinding him, causing the smile to slip a little as his heart rate increased, almost chastising him for not rushing to escape the invasive questions, the judgemental looks, but he ground his teeth and kept up the act. Sweat broke out on his brow, Elliott Witt running one hand up his arm, fingers wiggling theatrically as a decoy stepped out from behind him, the fans intermingled with the press screaming in excitement as the apparition wrapped one arm around Mirage’s shoulders, winking and blowing kisses. At least it knew how to act, seeming to enjoy the full attentions of those gathered around.

 

Elliott felt sick even as the sun was blotted out as the trickster entered the towering building with his squad, the doors closing behind them and cutting off the noise from outside. It was instant relief, Mirage releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, the young legend briefly shutting his eyes as the cool air soothed hot flesh. His hands were trembling, Elliott choosing to ignore it while he attempted to catch his breath. He felt like he’d just finished a long run or clutched a 1v3 in the ring, and the truth was arguably worse.

 

How he hated it. How he hated pretending.

 

“You make it look too easy.”

 

Elliott turned to look sidelong at Bangalore as they walked, the security breaking off now that they were within the safety of the building, the trickster grinning widely. “Well, it is!” He responded in amusement. “I mean, how could it not be when you’re as attr-attre- when you look as good as this?”

 

The soldier rolled her eyes though the look she directed her teammate with was one of amusement. “If only we could all look so good.”

 

“Hey, you definitely got more than Caustic,” Elliott answered, snapping finger guns at the woman while Gibraltar wandered off. “Ten outta ten.”

 

Bangalore snorted, turning away now. “Wouldn’t Nox find that an interesting comparison,” she answered over her shoulder. “Remember we got interviews and a photo op in ten. I don’t want to be there longer than I have to, so don’t be late.”

 

Elliott’s smile faded slightly as the soldier turned her back on him. Dread reared its ugly head again as the decoy beside him shattered into flecks of light, shaking hands shoved into pockets as he set his jaw.

 

How he hated it.

  


The private interviews were long, the lights of the room seeming to judge him as he was assaulted with question after question for more than an hour. The reporters taking apart everything he did in the ring, questioning his slip ups, pointing out his flaws. The criticism always outweighed the praise, reminding Elliott of why he hated to win. But he had to, to fund his mother’s work and keep her afloat. There was entertainment in the game, enjoyment, and the young man had grown close to many of the repeat champions… It was what came after that he didn’t enjoy. He pretended too, kept up the facade of charm and the act of a playboy, making people love him. Making people _sponsor_ him.

 

He couldn’t do it again.

 

Elliott Witt slammed his fist down on the table, the contents rattling in chastisement as the trickster hid his face in trembling hands. He was sweating, breath coming in short, almost desperately shallow, gasps.

 

Eyes shut, jaw clenched, Elliott waited for the panic to subside. The silence in the room was deafening, the young man taking a deep breath before opening them again, the dim lights in the little work space almost a relief compared to the glaring brightness of the interview room.

 

Frustration built even as the shaking subsided, Elliott letting out a growl before swiping an arm across the table, knocking it’s contents to the ground with a loud clatter.

 

He never wanted to leave his rooms again.

 

_You don’t have to._

 

The thought had him stilling, muscles tensing as a troubled unease crept inside, taking smug residence in his very core.

 

_Finish it._

 

Elliott shifted at the thought niggling along the edges of his subconscious, whispering promises of relief, of improvement. _Of being free_.

 

Slowly the trickster turned his attention onto the corner of the room occupying his biggest project: an automaton. A clone. He… wasn’t sure _what_ to call it.

 

Bouncing one knee, Elliott considered whether or not he should. The idea had come to the trickster when he’d first started gaining popularity in the games, when more people stepped forward to sponsor him, when he began to win games left and right, press and fans lining up for photographs and interviews. The anxiety had built, niggling at him weeks before each game, stress becoming a constant factor in everyday life for Elliott when people began to recognize him at a glance. He’d begun to ask himself… What if he didn’t have to be present at interviews? What if he didn’t have to try and charm sponsors? What if someone -or _something_ \- could do that for him?

 

Elliott’s fingers tapped a nervous tune into the table, the holographics specialist finally pushing himself up to his feet to approach it, stopping directly alongside, fingers curled into a fist. He willed himself to pull off the cover, to study it. Joints crafted with Xoskalt, a rare metal possessing both strength as well as remarkable flexibility, limbs of Nupliam… Flesh. Flesh cloned from samples of his own genetics. It looked like him. It _was_ him.

 

Dropping the cover back over it, Elliott ran a hand threw his hair. He’d created the body, putting a lot of his winnings into developing it, most of the work being done himself though the organic sections had been attended to by a scientist, paid well enough to keep quiet. Mirage had never met him, impersonating a wealthy fan with an odd -no _creepy_ \- obsession with the famous legend, but even he had to admit the scientist had done a very good job. Even the tiniest detail had seemingly been noted, the smallest scars on the face mirroring his own. Elliott silently wondered just how intently the scientist must’ve studied photos of his face, the thought making him feel more than slightly uncomfortable.

 

But it wasn’t real. Not yet.

 

Elliott sat himself beside the clone now, staring down at the drive in his hand. A copy of his memories. Well, memories from his time first joining the Apex Games, nothing before that. Only the memories it would need to reliably fulfill the purpose the trickster had built it for. The moment it was uploaded and given life, it would have the ability to build its own memories, process information and develop both cognitively and emotionally. Nobody would be able to tell it wasn’t a real person.

 

Uncertainty ate at Elliott as he sat there in silence, unsure of whether or not he should go through with this. What if it didn’t work? _You won’t know if you don’t try_ . What if it messes up and people found out he was an anxious wreck that couldn’t fathom the thought of enduring the public eye again? _Impossible. Due to its cognitive abilities it would be absolutely incapable of making a mistake…_ well, greatly unlikely at the very least.

 

Elliott wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the answer to his problems. It would help him. What could go wrong? _You’ll be free_. That little voice whispered, the trickster sighing as he thought about the next upcoming Apex Game, and though it was more than a week or two away, he could feel his heart clench at the thought of repeating today.

 

He couldn’t do it again.

 

He didn’t _have_ to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I will be referring to chimera as decoy/clone just because of the circumstances and that.
> 
> Beta read by soulheartthewolf

Elliott couldn’t sleep. At least not well. Not lately.

 

Shifting restlessly the trickster rolled onto his side, growling in frustration. As he lay there, eyes shut, arm flung over his eyes in what must’ve looked dramatic, Elliott stilled. An eerie sensation of being watched washed over him, the young legend’s heart skipping a beat as a chill raced down his spine. His fingers twitched, Elliott trying to keep his breathing deep and even as he listened for any sound that might alert him to a trespasser.

 

Nothing.

 

Several moments passed, a cold sweat was breaking out on Elliott’s body now. It was silly. Nobody lived here with-

 

Elliott nearly jumped out of his skin when a movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, the holographic specialist’s head jerking towards it. Brown locked with brown, Elliott stilling as he stared back at the clone. The reason he hadn’t found himself capable of sleeping the last few nights. 

 

“What are you doing?” Elliott questioned in annoyance, the only other occupant of the room staring back at him silently, unmoving. It was disturbing, how still it sat, how it constantly seemed to find interest in watching him sleep. It never spoke, Elliott beginning to wonder if it was even capable of doing so. “Can you  _ not _ stare? It’s rude and creepy!”

 

When the decoy didn’t respond, Elliott let out a frustrated sigh, rolling so his back was to it.

 

“Why?”

 

Elliott yelped in surprise, shooting upright into a sitting position before turning back towards the clone. “Wh-what…?”

 

“Why is it rude?” 

 

It  _ did _ speak!

 

“How did you… How are you…” Elliott attempted to find his words, heart beating rapidly in surprise. He had begun to wonder if he hadn’t connected something properly, somehow done something that prevented it from speaking.

 

“Talking?” It questioned now.

 

Giving a mute nod, Elliott shifted so his legs hung over the side of the bed, fingers curling into the sheets as he studied the clone with a renewed sort of fascination.

 

“I… I don’t know,” it answered, looking confused itself now. “Am I not supposed to?”

 

“No! No it’s not that,” Elliott laughed nervously, “I just… You just didn’t talk before this.”

 

“Oh.” It’s brow furrowed, the clone looking to be deep in thought, and god did it not look attra- Elliott pushed that thought from his mind. Of course it was! It was  _ him _ . Well, not  _ completely _ . “I’m still working through the data.”

 

Elliott nodded, falling silent for a moment. The silence was comfortable, the clone seeming a little more human the more it talked. Perhaps it just needed time to process everything he had uploaded. If so, it definitely accomplished it faster than he had thought it would. 

 

“Am I…” It hesitated, looking almost nervously at him. “Am I allowed to ask you some things?”

 

“Oh, uh,” Elliott stumbled over himself, caught off guard by the question. Why wouldn’t it be allowed to? Well, he hadn’t laid down any rules or spoken to it much. “Of course! You don’t have to ask. People are allowed to ask questions, are they not?”

 

It frowned, that thoughtful look passing over its face again. “I guess so… But I’m not  _ really _ a human… What  _ am _ I?”

 

Elliott was silent, bewilderment filling every part of him. This was… odd. Not at all what he had thought would happen upon building the clone to take over the aspects of his life he couldn’t do. He had built it with a processor capable of sorting and ingesting thousands of terabyte at a time, created it with an emotional and logical processor that would allow it to expand it’s thought patterns and just… Be more real. Not ever did Elliott expect it to seem so much like himself, awkward and uncertain, it was almost scary.

 

“Well… You’re  _ you _ , just like I am me.”

 

“Are we the same?”

 

“Not… technically no?” Elliott frowned thoughtfully. 

 

“What was it you were doing just now?”

 

Elliott looked up, broken from his thoughts as he gave a soft laugh. “Sleeping.”

 

“What is it?”

 

_ Fuck it’s curious.  _ Really _ curious. _

 

“It’s like… I get tired after a while, so I lay down and close my eyes and I just… I don’t know how to de-dis- I’m not sure how to explain it.”

 

It nodded, thankfully deciding the answer was good enough for now. “Do the others do it?”

 

Elliott frowned, surprised. “Others?”

 

It reached up to tap a finger against its head. “The others. There are others. The people you work with.”

 

“Oh. You mean like Octavio and Ajay.”

 

“Yes, the other legends.”

 

“Yes, all people do it.”

 

“Then I am not a person. What am I?”

 

_ Ok, this is slightly disturbing. _ Elliott mused silently, studying the clone for several long moments before answering, “there are many kinds of people.”

 

It looked back at him, not very happy with the response. “What am I?” It repeated, more insistently this time, a look of frustration passing across its face.

 

“There are humans, and then there are… Robots, like Pathfinder.” Elliott answered finally, trying to find an answer to satisfy the clone’s thirst for information. “You aren’t exactly  _ either _ . You’re the best of both.”

 

It was quiet for several long moments, a dark light reflecting in its face before fading away to that innocent naivety. “So I am nothing.”

 

“No, you are a  _ someone _ .” Elliott answered, briefly thinking about going to hug the clone before stopping himself.  _ What the fuck is going on??? _ This was all so confusing. How did it learn to speak so quickly? Why did it not seem content with the answers it was given…?

 

“You need a name.”

 

It looked up at him now, brow furrowed, before averting it’s gaze. “You don’t need to.”

 

“What do you mean?” Elliott questioned in confusion, “I need to call you something. All people have a name.”

 

It regarded him in curious silence now, though there was an obvious uncertainty in it’s expression. It made no response, choosing instead to watch him, to see what he would say next. From the look on its face, Elliot could see that it would very much  _ like  _ a name. It’s… What was he to it? A master? A father? A friend? Something to discover another time, perhaps.

 

“If I’m Mirage, it’d be  _ really _ cool if you could have some sort of similar name, y’know?” Elliott babbled, the idea of naming the clone somewhat exciting. “Something to do with illusions, trickery, you know?”

 

“Chimera.”

 

Elliott stopped, interest igniting as he stared at the clone seated across the room. “What?”

 

“Can I be named Chimera?”

 

“What’s it mean?” Elliott asked curiously. He knew  _ something _ of what it meant, but he was more curious as to what it thought the term referred to. Or if it even did? If so, where did it learn that?

 

“It means  something that is hoped for but is truly illusory.”

 

“Where did you learn that?”

 

“I read it.”

 

Elliott snorted in response to that, utterly baffled. “ _ Read _ it? Where did you learn to read?”

 

“Doesn’t everyone know?” Chimera questioned in a slightly defensive tone.

 

“Well,” Elliott paused for a moment as he processed what to say next, “not  _ everyone _ . The thing is that everyone’s gotta learn how to. Like everybody needs to be taught.”

 

Chimera was silent for a moment, head tilting slightly. “I’m not like everyone else.”

 

Elliott laughed now, truly laughed. Chimera was greatly intelligent, that much was obvious, but with the understanding of a child. Would that be the right way to put it? “No, you aren’t,” the holographic trickster finally settled on answering, a smile touching his lips. 

 

A somewhat comfortable silence fell then, Elliott resting his chin in his hand, elbow resting on a knee as he studied the other. A small smile lifted the corner of one lip as he did so. With the rate Chimera was learning, he would definitely be able to avoid the interviews and more uncomfortable situations. Perhaps maybe he could even have a friend? A close one he could tell everything to.

 

“What is that?”

 

Elliott jumped slightly when his look-alike spoke again so suddenly, fumbling for a response as he looked around for whatever had triggered it’s curiosity. “What’s what?”

 

“That? On your face?”

 

Reaching up to touch his face, Elliott frowned. “There’s not anything there…?”

 

“Not anymore, but it was,” the decoy stood up from where he was to approach now, and though of the same height Elliott felt as if it towered over him, Chimera bending over to place curious fingers on his lips. “It was right there.”

 

Staring into the familiar brown gaze, Elliott’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find his words, his heartbeat accelerating as the silence stretched on. Chimera was watching him, interest alight in those brown eyes that flickered down to his chest before returning his gaze again. It looked slightly dumbfounded, maybe a little confused, and Elliott gave a nervous laugh as he reached up to grab Chimera’s wrist, slowly pulling those fingers away from his face. 

 

“It’s there again.”

 

Elliott’s brow furrowed at the words even as it began to dawn on him, the young legend laughing again. “It’s a smile.”

 

“What’s it for?”

 

“It’s to show someone you’re… happy, I guess?”

 

Chimera nodded, thankfully seeming to accept the answer it was given. It turned away then, curiosity seemingly content as it faded back into the shadows in the corner of the room.

 

Elliott let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, bewilderment filling him again as his mind ran over the events of the last hour. Definitely something to think about, at a proper hour in the morning. For now, tiredness began to pull at him again, Elliott lying back down as he lost himself to it’s embrace.

 

He slept soundly for the first time in months.


End file.
